Page 43 of Of Oaths and Secrets

Teresa laughs, her good humor returning as she crouches down to scratch behind Fate’s ears. “I’m so happy to have her here. I always thought Mr. Lucchese needed a pet, but he’s all about order—I never thought he’d give in.” She looks up at me, her eyes full of mirth. “It must have taken a very special lady to make him cave.”

As I finish the last bite of my breakfast, I pull out my phone to check my emails. It’s a habit, a way to stay connected to the world I’ve distanced myself from, the world I sometimes wish I could still be a part of. My heart skips a beat when I see the email from Columbia.

I freeze, my finger hovering over the screen as I read the subject line:Final Notice: Columbia University Master's Program.

My stomach tightens as I open the email, my eyes scanning the words that confirm what I feared.Your delayed admission isalmost up, and if we do not receive a response in the next thirty days, your spot will be forfeited.

A wave of sadness washes over me. I had almost forgotten about the dream I once had, the plans I had made for my future—plans that now feel like a distant memory. As a mafia wife, even married to the nicest of men, pursuing a dream like this would be difficult. But I'm not married to the nicest of men; I’m married to the most feared of them all. The idea of asking Rafaele for support, or even permission, feels laughable.

Still, I can’t bring myself to reject the offer, not yet. It feels like a final nail in the coffin of who I used to be, and I’m not ready to let go of that just yet.

Teresa notices the change in my demeanor, her eyes narrowing with concern. “Is everything alright, Mrs. Lucchese?”

I force a smile, nodding as I lock my phone and slide it back into my pocket. “Yes, everything’s fine. Just… an old email. Nothing important.”

But as I say the words, I feel the weight of the decision I have to make pressing down on me. I can’t tell Teresa—she wouldn’t understand. No one here would. The dreams I had before this life feel so out of reach now, and it’s like mourning a future that never truly began.

I stand up, suddenly needing to move and escape the confines of the kitchen. “Thank you again for breakfast, Teresa. I think I’ll take Fate for a walk.”

Teresa watches me carefully, sensing there’s more beneath the surface, but she simply nods. “Of course, Mrs. Lucchese. The fresh air will do you good.”

I grab Fate’s ball, my mind still reeling from the email. As I walk out the door, the reality of my situation settles over me like a heavy shroud. The life I once dreamed of feels like it’s slipping further and further away, and I don’t know how to stop it.

As the crisp autumn air fills my lungs, I find a small sense of relief. Fate's antics bring a genuine smile to my face as she struggles to catch the oversized ball, her tiny legs scrambling in the fallen leaves. For a moment, I’m able to forget the pressure of the email, the reality that’s closing in on me. But as the day wears on, the fatigue settles back into my bones, and I find myself drawn to the library—the one place in this house that feels like a sanctuary.

The library is my refuge. Ever since I discovered it during one of my solitary explorations, it has become my favorite place in the house. The room is a perfect blend of warmth and comfort, with its gentle colors and the constant, soothing crackle of the fireplace. The soft glow of the fire casts a welcoming light over the bookshelves that line the walls, filled with volumes that seem to whisper secrets from another time.

I settle into the plush green sofa, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into my tired muscles. Fate is already fast asleep at my feet, her little body finally at peace after a day of endless exploration. I open the book in my hands, letting the familiar scent of old pages fill my senses, and begin to read. The words on the page start to weave their magic, pulling me into another world, far from the worries that have been gnawing at me all day.

But as the minutes pass, my eyelids grow heavier, the lines of text blurring together. The soft crackling of the fire, combined with the comfortable weight of Fate at my feet, makes it hard to keep my focus. I feel myself drifting, the book slipping slightly from my grasp as my head tilts back against the sofa.

Just as I’m about to succumb to sleep, I hear the faint creak of the door. My eyes flutter open, and I see Rafaele standing in the doorway, his expression hesitant. He looks almost… awkward, a stark contrast to the composed and confident man I’ve come to know.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice low, almost as though he’s unsure whether to disturb me.

I blink, still groggy from the edges of sleep. “Why are you asking?” The question slips out before I can stop myself. I’m genuinely curious, especially since this is the first time he’s asked me anything so directly about how I’m doing.

Rafaele shifts his weight, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I won’t impose my presence if you want to be alone. I just thought I’d check in.”

I straighten up a little, suddenly feeling more awake. “You’re not imposing,” I say, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice. “I’m not chasing you out of your own home.”

“Ourhome,” he corrects me gently, his gaze meeting mine for a moment before moving away.

His words catch me off guard but in a good way. There’s something reassuring in the way he said it, like he’s acknowledging that this place, this life, is as much mine as it is his. I nod toward the chair opposite me, feeling a strange urge to keep him here, to bridge this gap that’s always between us.

“Why don’t you sit?” I offer, trying to sound casual, though my heart picks up pace. “It’s nice to have company.”

He hesitates for a moment before finally stepping into the room and taking a seat in the armchair across from me. He’s still a bit stiff like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself, but I appreciate the effort.

We sit in silence for a few moments, the only sound coming from the crackling fire and Fate’s soft breathing. It’s a comfortable silence, though, and I find myself relaxing again, the tension in my shoulders easing just a bit.

“You seem to like this room,” Rafaele says, breaking the quiet. His voice is softer now, almost as if he’s afraid of disturbing the peace we’ve found.

“I do,” I admit, glancing around at the bookshelves that line the walls. “It’s a good place to escape to.”

He nods. “I always loved this room the best, too, even if I don’t have much time for it these days.”

“You don’t seem to have much time for anything these days.” Damn it. I bite my bottom lip, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I quickly look away, focusing on the fire as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world.

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